


The Calamitous Conundrum of Couch Co-Ownership

by Insatiable_Fox



Series: A Capricious Collection of Curious Circumstances [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, True Blood (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Couches, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Eric Northman Is A Fucking Shit, IKEA, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insatiable_Fox/pseuds/Insatiable_Fox
Summary: Magnus Bane and Eric Northman go couch shopping, which goes exceedingly well. Not.Part of the bizarre short story collection, Titled 'A Capricious Collection of Curious Circumstances'.
Relationships: Eric Northman/Magnus Bane
Series: A Capricious Collection of Curious Circumstances [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588189
Kudos: 5





	The Calamitous Conundrum of Couch Co-Ownership

**Author's Note:**

> A Capricious Collection of Curious Circumstances: everyday situations and events take an interesting turn when mixed with multiple fandoms.
> 
> A collection of truly bizarre short stories I wrote because fuck it, I wanted to, and the inside of my head is a terrifying place. They can be read in any order, and you can pick and choose as per your liking.

“This is it. This is the one.” Magnus flops himself down onto the sofa, a hand trailing revelry over vivid, orange leather. 

  


“If you attempt to bring that monstrosity home I’ll feed you to Pam,” Eric drawls. Somehow, he’s managed to find the only fur-lined chaise in the entire store, and it is on this leopard-come-bear-come-wolf abomination he now reclines, looking for all sense and purposes, completely relaxed. “Also, it clashes.”

  


“With what?” Magus lays his head back and shuts his eyes, stifling the indecent moan which attempts to escape when his neck meets cushion. Really, he's pleasantly surprised with the amount of support the couch provides, especially for a sectional. 

  


“Your pants. And Chairman Meow.” Movement near the chaise diverts Magnus’ attention momentarily from some _really quite lovely stitching_. Eric, in the short amount of time between his previous sentence and now, has somehow successfully appropriated a blanket from fuck-knows where. A tiger-striped, furred and faux-headed blanket. 

  


Mother of Eve, give him strength. He groans again, although this time it's not over the cushion's excellent firmness-to-yield ratio. “I can change the pants, darling. Most people do, at least occasionally.”

  


Eric, blanket now tucked tightly to his chin, raises a brow. “And what about Chairman Meow?”

  


_Dickhead_. “I'll change him too,” Magnus mutters, sounding petulant. It’s an empty assertion. In truth, whilst he _could_ re-colour the snooty ball of ginger, purebred fluff, he's not all that keen to risk it. Completely understandable, in his opinion - it was, after all, a disgruntled and rainbow-ed Chairman Meow who’d left him with permanent disfigurements in at least three silk blouses. Not that Magnus is willing to bring that particular episode up. “Obviously,” he adds instead, content to pretend for the moment his bastard cat doesn’t love Eric more, and is a willing test subject for his supposed master. 

  


“Obviously,” Eric repeats. His eyes are closed, lips parted slightly and breathing slow, the embodiment of ease despite Magnus’ agitated couch-matching-cat-matching-pant fretting. It makes Magnus want to hit him. With fire. “Do you have enough shirts left to start sparring with Chairman?” Eric adds innocently, which is apparently the last straw and Magnus’ breaking point. In what could only be described as a fit of furniture-fuelled fever, he proceeds to hurl himself from the unbelievable comfort of the Orange Domination and across the store to where Eric lounges, languid, upon his tawdry throne. He stabs a finger to his lovers chest, eyes aglow, although refrains from spelling the bastards cock off. For now. 

  


“Fuck you,” Magnus snarls instead, aware of the judgemental looks being thrown their way. This is, admittedly, not abnormal. A 6 '7, Nordic blonde Viking vampire with a penchant for leather and fur (often together) tended to yield a fair amount of attention. And that was before he started bickering with a cat-eyed, glitter bearded, mesh-singlet-adoring Warlock. “I give up. You win. I’ll abandon the autumnal sectional.” Spying store security inching closer, Magnus reluctantly lowers his voice. They _cannot_ afford to be banned from another IKEA. "But we’re not buying Fur Gone Wild, Eric,” he hisses. "Chairman Meow would be mortally offended.”

  


Eric grins, propping himself up on his side with an elbow. His eyes are lidded, lips curved into a sinful smile, and Magnus is 95% sure he's somehow managed to lose his cashmere sweater. That is, if the taut nipple winking at him from above the tiger throw is to be believed. “Good,” Eric purrs, fingers caressing the mock mountain cat's ears suggestively. "Because Pam’s been showing me some fantastic Lazy-Boys.”

  


Magnus rolls his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand down against the sudden stiffness in his pants as he spins and starts for the exit, Eric (hopefully) in tow.

  


Was the Living Department of IKEA at 10am on a Tuesday morning an unsuitable location for a stiff drink?

  



End file.
